


Memory's Edge

by taichara



Category: Weiß Side B (Manga)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-31
Updated: 2016-01-31
Packaged: 2018-05-17 09:33:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5864014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taichara/pseuds/taichara
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yuki takes a chance, Aya breaks down a wall, and the language of flowers really can reveal unexpected messages.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Memory's Edge

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Liviania](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liviania/gifts).



It had started off as mutual language lessons. 

While Aya's grasp of the English language was leagues ahead of Ken's often-incomprehensible attempts, he hardly considered himself fluent and all it took was one misunderstood word and a mission -- to say nothing of basic day to day business -- would be well and truly sunk. For his own part, Yuki was curious, wanted to be able to understand _Aya_ better (especially when he muttered cryptically to himself) ... and, well, it never hurt to have a second language.

It had started off as mutual language lessons, sure, but now it was two more half-a-languages -- sort of -- and Yuki would have been sorely tempted to ask Aya if he'd lost his mind if he hadn't cottoned to just how damned _useful_ this was going to be.

He'd said as much an hour into setting out pot after pot after vase on the flower shop's largest worktable. Aya had smiled in that silent Aya way that told Yuki he'd hit on a good answer, and had said as much.

_'Symbols are powerful things. Even a few flowers can leave a message if you know what they stand for ... and who thinks anything of florists carrying flowers?'_

The complication was the two conflicting flower languages. It was a lesson in frustration, until Yuki suggested they use the plants -- plus a battered second-hand copy of a Victorian flower manual, and Aya's old training -- to trade flower languages, and pick up some English and Japanese along the way ... 

The project worked better than either expected, really. One would select a pot, carry it over to the stools pushed up to the table, write out the name and a few words of meaning (in Aya's case, in English when possible), then explain the words. Then the other would take their turn.

It was Yuki's turn next; scanning over the remaining choices, he picked up a vase of bushy little flowerheads, pinkish-lavender, and trotted over with it. Vase in place, he sat down, picked up his pencil -- and saw the odd expression on Aya's face. It was somewhere between regretful and wistful, and it was strange and unsettling.

"... Aya? You okay? Should I put that one back?"

Aya blinked rapidly, then shook his head with a tiny, rueful smile.

"No. No, it's alright. I _think_ I know this flower, but: show me?"

Well, no harm in it, right? It was just a flower. Yuki drew in a breath and nodded, jotting down his notes.

"That one's called an 'aster'. According to the book --"

\-- he paused to flip pages --

"-- it can mean 'variety' or 'an afterthought'. That's a strange combination."

"Mmm."

Eyes on the plant, and not on Yuki, Aya practiced the name a few times. Sighing, he picked up his own pencil and accepted the offered notepad. This time, along with his usual renderings in the English alphabet, he'd added kana under the flower's name.

"In Japan, this flower is named 'shion' ..."

Hold up, now. Yuki looked from the vase to Aya, back to the vase, and to Aya again.

"Shion? Like your sword."

There was the tiny smile again, and that look.

"Just like my sword, yes. 'Shion'. And its meaning is 'remembrance'. Or 'I will not forget you'."

Well. Yuki already knew the blade was something important; the way that strange guy had hung onto it all this time just to deliver it spoke volumes right there. And swords were given names, that he knew. But there was something _else_ going on, with the flower and with the sword and with that look in Aya's eyes ... and, damn it, it was important. He was sure of that.

It was something _Aya_ made a point of keeping remembrance of.

Plucking a stalk of aster from the vase, he held the spray out to Aya with a weird little smile of his own. Might as well practice team theatrics, it might take the edge off what he was going to ask.

"Tell me about it? What needs to be remembered, Aya?"

For a long, long moment there was nothing but dead silence. Aya could have been a statue; he hardly seemed to breathe. Except those haunted eyes stayed locked on Yuki, and something dark seemed to stir there ...

Then it passed, like a storm breaking; and with a hand that trembled only once, Aya took the offered blossoms.

"... When I ..."

He took a breath, with a little shake like a dog throwing off the rain, and started again. Yuki didn't interrupt.

"... My first assignment was at a shrine in Sendai. 

"My mentor -- my teacher -- there, was ..."


End file.
